


Work To Do

by HannahLydia



Series: Constants and Variables - Vignettes [3]
Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: Angst, Burial at Sea, F/M, Feelings are implied but there's no real content, Mental Anguish, Mid-Canon, Regret, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 02:12:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15962486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannahLydia/pseuds/HannahLydia
Summary: An embittered Elizabeth steels herself for her forthcoming plans, and regrets what she's sacrificed thus far.





	Work To Do

Elizabeth knew how to be alone. She had _always_ known, in the grand scheme of things; yet the strength of her independence had faded just like the dog-eared corners of the photograph in her hand. Solitude had been easy – comfortable – when it had been all she’d ever known, but learning to trust and learning what it was to be in someone else’s company… it had wiped all that away.  
She sighed raggedly, leaning into the tinted wall of glass beside her in the hopes that its chill would seep into her bones and freeze over what was left of her heart. 

It had been a long time ago now, practically another life all together, since she had been alone like this - back when her wings had been clipped and she’d sat prettily in her gilded cage, feathering her nest and resigning herself to be content with her lot. But she wasn’t content, not anymore, because she had tasted what it was to be dependent on someone. Tasted _togetherness._ Now? Now she was leading a life so different to the one she’d had that she could scarcely recognise herself.  
“ _If you can call it a life,_ ” The words came out in a tone lighter than a whisper, escaping from her lips like a forgotten tendril of smoke. She’d spoken it so completely unconsciously that her face had made no attempt to express the pain she still felt.

Perhaps the worst part of all this was dealing with the rapid mood swings that took hold of her. One moment she’d be as cold as the pressure-heavy ocean six feet away from her and finding justice in all that she’d done to get this far. The next minute…  
Elizabeth eyed the airlock along the corridor, her gaze skipping over the vast amount of warning signs that haloed it in an ugly pastiche of safety.  
_The next minute_ she’d be overcome with a remorse and grief so strong that she wanted to just twist and twist the handle of that airlock and free herself. Pray that all rivers did indeed run into the ocean, and brought all their secrets with them. Including the one she so dearly missed.

She could make out a set of footsteps behind her, and instinctively, Elizabeth turned her face into her right shoulder, hoping to avoid rousing their attention, hoping they would simply walk on by. To her immense relief, the well-dressed couple did, and carried on down the tiled walkway until they were shrouded in the gloom of a burnt-out bulb. She was spared the uncomfortable moment’s silence of staring into the face of happiness with a face pale and hardened with loss. Her teeth were clenched tightly, painted nails digging into the palm of her hand and leaving crescent-shaped indentations in their wake.

Did she dare admit to herself that she’d made a mistake coming here? That all the sacrifices up until now had been empty? It had all been so instinctive, so… on the spur of the moment. She’d felt such a strong need for vengeance that the coppery taste of blood had filled her mouth and burned her throat, and now Booker was gone and all that she had left was a death warrant to serve. Just what kind of person had she been in another life to deserve this never-ending circle of lose, use, abuse? A criminal? _A killer?_  
Her palm felt the ghostly bite of metal, the wet, slick coating of freshly spilt blood. Funny… the memory alone was enough to conjure near-hallucinations. She unclenched her hand and shook it as though dispelling the imaginary pair of scissors, rolling her shoulders and exhaling heavily with the weight of having done so.  
‘You just learn to live with it’, he’d said. But could she? Was she really strong enough for what would come next?

Pulling away from the floor-to-ceiling window, she walked in the opposite direction to the promenading couple from earlier, heading towards the hustle and bustle of the shopping district. If she surrounded herself with enough clamour she might be able to drown out the screaming in her head. Elizabeth had no time to doubt herself. She had work to do.


End file.
